my heart to break | [Mylee]

new

« Prev
1
Next »

ryan
Advertiser

2,989 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen Nov 24, 2024 23:35:41 GMT -5

over the moon, where all the wild things are

my heart to break | [Mylee] Apr 16, 2020 21:53:26 GMT -5

Post by ryan on Apr 16, 2020 21:53:26 GMT -5

“Your place or mine?”

That was the last thing she remembered as she woke up in the morning. She felt comfortable, but less comfortable as she would have if she hadn’t woken up with a throbbing temple. She still hadn’t been too used to drinking the amount this she did last night. She had been able to at least train herself to be conscious, even when she slamming back glasses quicker then throwing knives out of hand.

Maybe she had always been the type of girl who would put herself in the riskiest of situations? She put herself in tons of them is she was being honest with herself. She did survive the Hunger Games after all, even if everyone else in her games did as well. She would have made it out alone as well, and that was something that she could take away from her games. Sure, other victors still didn’t like her, but that was another conversation that she could have another day, with other people that wanted to view her situation in different way. Of course, most of them didn’t give a shit. They wanted her for other reasons. They didn’t care about her objectively petty problems. They just wanted her star quality, the light that emanated off of her as she fought tooth and nail. Her sanity and her well-being did not matter when she could have shed blood.

But it never hurt the same way.

She opened her eyes finally and looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch her thoughts before she tried to pull herself out of bed. She knew that the capitol had special medicine that could cure of her of whatever hangover she was about to feel, but that wasn’t her worry. Instead, she sat up, pressing her back to the headboard of the bed and grabbing a bottle of water that she left there for occasions when she knew she would drink herself under the table. She took a long sip before finally rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Those words were playing quite loudly in her ear now, but she wasn’t sure who exactly she came home up. The joys of drinking till you just cant she supposed. Her vision was still a little hazy, but it was time to probably wake them up and get them out of her apartment so she could get back on with her day.

Annie wasn’t always proud of having tristes when she had always claimed that her heart was unattainable. She kept it locked under key and thrown in the oceans of four if she was being honest. If someone wanted to brave the depths of the darkest parts of the ocean, then she welcomed them. Most people realized quickly that she was not worth all the trouble, just like her father had told her when she was growing up.

She wished he would choke every day of her life.

However, she took another swig of water and finally took the chance to look over at the other side of the bed, and that’s when she realized that Shelby Levaine had been the lady of the evening. She began to cough vigorously as she felt water slip into her lungs. She tried to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t wake her, but Annie knew better. She was being an asshole at this point. There was no way that she wasn’t waking.

Annie had no clue how to even approach this, as now there was a woman in her bed that she knew was just as deadly as her. She could remember some of the conversation they had the day before, and none of it was anything they probably wanted to share with each other. Why did victors always have to share their scars like they were for everyone? Annie never understood it, but she participated in it willingly. It was like she needed to say something, and sometimes her mouth worked in ways that ended up in situations like this.

She hated herself for that.

She took a deep breath, figuring that her moments of silent would now be disrupted by noises that she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear. She needed to put herself out her head for a moment, realizing now that she was only covered by the comforter on her bed. However, in some odd respect, so was Shelby. She didn’t know how this was going to go down, and she knew that not speaking would have made it even more awkward. ”Soooo… Water?” Annie said with a small smile forming on her lips as she grabbed another bottle of water from the other end of the night stand.

They had time to hash out all of the details, no matter how much Annie didn’t want to admit that.

heather - d2 [mylee]
Retired Staff

528 POSTS

last seen May 30, 2023 18:02:03 GMT -5

my heart to break | [Mylee] May 25, 2020 21:22:23 GMT -5

Post by heather - d2 [mylee] on May 25, 2020 21:22:23 GMT -5

I’m no stranger to waking in unfamiliar places—beds, floors, the alley one street over from where I was trying to go—and I’m quite familiar with the aches and pains that often accompany this type of reentry into the waking world. This morning, the surface at my back is soft, the bones of my spine sinking gently into the mattress that holds me. Thin sheets cover bare skin tenderly, the touch of white material so soft the slightest breeze threatens to strip me vulnerable. This is how I will stay for an hour, maybe two. I will watch streaks of sunlight fight their way in through the smallest cracks in the blinds to waltz on the floor beside me, all the while never letting my spine turn from the soft valley it’s created in this satin landscape.

This is the only form of stillness I know. Almost religious, but too convenient to be sacrificial. This is the body that I break in the early hours at the empty altar of the mind. See the bruised knees, purple and red flesh turned the carnal colors of royalty.

I can feel air entering and exiting my lungs, the rise and fall of my chest under the sheets a steady rhythm that is only disrupted by the woman beside me shifting, shifting, shifting. The distribution on the bed changes, and the weight turns to favor me as I am suddenly left alone in the bed. I focus on keeping my body still, my eyelids shut softly to give the continued impression of sleep. The sound of plastic cracking overtakes that of soft steps on the carpet, and I hear water pour from the neck of a bottle down her throat. Her voice cuts the dull silence, an offer that makes me realize she knows I am awake.

As I bring myself to my elbows, the world tips right, then left, then right again before I find myself quasi-stable. I try to spend these first moments of interaction away from what’s come in the hours prior. Usually, this is a cocktail of pleasure muddled by the stern and driving force of desire. So many mornings prior, the only taste leftover is shame. But a near decade later, my throat has learned what it means to swallow this type of fire without the ramifications of being burned. I’ve been self-serving for a long time, I’ve just grown tired of hating myself for it. For this reason, I hold nothing against an opportunist, an egoist—same difference. I think we’re all self-serving at the core, but so few are willing to admit that this is what drives the rhythm of the heart.

But make no mistake. I’m no hero for saying that I serve my interests and mine alone.

I don’t think Annie has learned this yet, at least not if I am reading the look on her face correctly. I study her for a moment, all of my weight resting on my elbows as I search her gestures for the real places of discomfort. After a moment, she shifts, the water bottle still held tightly in her outstretched hand. I reach for it, disrupting my balance in the process and having to catch myself, fingers spread wide and palm digging into the mattress. I offer half a smile and crack the plastic seal with my teeth, spitting the cap beside me as I take a sip. Water is fine, but I usually kill the kind of headache I think you’re having with a bloody mary. After setting the open bottle on the nightstand, I fidget with the cap, moving it between my fingers, feeling the teeth run along the lines of my palm. I know a good place to get one, if you’re interested. I’d probably even buy you breakfast.

My own stomach grumbles at the words. A genuine offer extended, yes. The fact of its self-fulfilling nature, secondary.

[ table: rave ]

ryan
Advertiser

2,989 POSTS

Pronouns: he/him
last seen Nov 24, 2024 23:35:41 GMT -5

over the moon, where all the wild things are

my heart to break | [Mylee] May 28, 2020 9:32:01 GMT -5

Post by ryan on May 28, 2020 9:32:01 GMT -5

Stop.

Breathe.

Stop.

Breathe.

That’s what she had to tell herself as she sat there, nude and exposed in front of the girl that she had gone home with. It was funny, in a way, because she never really expected to find herself in a situation like this. Annie Morrisen had never been the type of girl to really think about love, or attraction or whatever laws that existed when it came to this type of thing.

She had always been the type of person that just went with it. If she vibed, then she vibed. She had a feeling that Shelby did not know who she was still, and she was fine with that. Annie, being a career, knew everything that she needed to know about Shelby Levaine. She had been a victor, she had won a quell, and now she knew that she killed the boy she might have loved.

She could have lived without knowing the last part.

But it was better to know these things upfront yeah?

Maybe Annie could share some of her scars, but she had a feeling that Shelby was not interested in that, and if she was being honest with herself, this was not the time or the place. Maybe over a nice dinner, or casual day at the beach. Maybe both? Annie wasn’t sure why she was thinking so far ahead. Maybe it was because she also had things she liked ripped out from under her in a blink of an eye.

Liked?

Annie needed to check herself, and quick. This was a hookup, nothing more. Even though Annie hadn’t really done such a thing before this.

She wouldn’t admit that, not even to Shelby. Not yet at the least. She had been fortunate, and secretive enough avoid the usual capitol subjugation that was almost expected of Victors at this point. To be honest though, Annie knew that she hadn’t done anything to piss anyone off… yet.

Maybe what she went through was more than enough.

Or maybe it wasn’t and Snow’s influence over her quell gave her enough traction to avoid being a sexual object. Maybe people knew that if they got close enough to her that she would figure out any way to take them out. Annie wasn’t afraid of anyone, that was her problem. She was a career first and a victor second, even though she knew that order never made any sense.

She was always just a girl first, a career second, and a victor lastly.

The first two she didn’t have a choice in.

That last one was left up to fate.

She fucking hated fate.

But right now she is here, and trying to make things a little less tense. Her head hurt, but not as much as it did when she came back from her victory tour. At this point, she had been used to hangovers, as a bottle of wine had always found its way into her hands most nights. She kept telling herself that she wouldn’t take advantage of the capitols “kindness” to her, but an addiction was just that. She couldn’t stop herself, even if she reminded herself. Kindness from the capitol was not something to turn down, and she had a feeling that both her and Shelby knew that.

Everyone else called it a perk and Annie called it a curse.

She never spoke that out loud though because she knew someone would be listening. She could have been in an empty room and somehow, some way, someone would have snitched on her. That’s how she felt when Cassius would make random appearances at her house out of the blue. She always had a knife close to her that day, because she wouldn’t be afraid to waste a peacekeeper, including the head one.

She had already killed three people, she would be willing to kill a fourth if the opportunity presented itself. She knew well that she could probably get away with it too, as she was considered the capitol’s darling in a lot of regards. Nico Throne might have had some words about that, but even he knew it had to be true. Annie had been part of one of the most iconic quells in the games histories. Everyone knew who Anatalia Morrisen was.

Sometimes she hated that.

But that wasn’t important, what was important was that Shelby Levaine was laying beside her, also naked, grabbing the bottle of water from her, and looking at her with a look that Annie could not figure out for the life of her.

”I just want to lay here for a moment.” Annie said, knowing well that she could probably go for another drink right now. ”Whenever I wake up from a crazy night, I like to just stay in bed a little bit longer.” Annie sunk into the sheets and let her head rest on her prosthetic. ”It’s the little things.” She smiled for a moment before looking up and down, realizing that this had happened. She had slept with someone that she barely knew.

”Breakfast though sounds good.” Annie admits as she opens her water bottle with her good hand and takes another long sip. ”I’d like that.” She said with a soft smile as she started to let her body relax a little more, a twinge of worry taking over her body ”Unless you have somewhere else to be?” Annie said after popping the cap back on and place the bottle behind her on the night stand. She never knew why she always thought everyone had ulterior motives. Maybe it was because she didn’t trust many people.

She wouldn’t start now.